So when you go skiing, you get thin.
Just humour me with this OK, because I did come back from 10 days of being on my feet nearly all day (which is like 90% more than I do usually) and I had gained three kilos. That's 300gms per day. It's pretty gross, but as it piled on so quickly, here's hoping it will drop off quickly. Ha ha. #WhatWouldKarinaSay?
Espace Killy is not a place I’ve marked on my gourmet bucket list as a mecca of any kind, but last week we discovered that there are some gems tucked away amongst the snowy peaks. And they beckon and call for you to hunker down in the warmth, particularly when the snow is whistling across the tops of the mountains horizontally and freezing any exposed skin. Luckily I had my number one tastier with me last week, and our round up is as follows:
An extension of Folie Douce smack bang in the middle of the resort, you can’t miss La Fruitiere. Just listen out for the booming beats of the Folie Douce and you’ll find it. Having said that, don’t just pitch up and expect a table, because you probably won’t get one.
We were first introduced to La Fruitiere by Madam Harris and CVL, on a once in a lifetime skiing trip to Meribel. It paints a certain picture if I tell you that instead of skiing back to the chalet after that lunch at La Fruitiere, we took a helicopter. On that occasion. With those two.
On this occasion, we did manage to ski home but with an adjusted centre of gravity after our extreme indulgence. La Fruitiere oozes cool modernity in a rustic chic setting with gorgeous waiters buzzing around in their dark blue boiler suits holding laden trays high above the babbling heads of their diners. We were shown to a table on the upper level, just on the edge of the railings above the stairs, with a bird’s eye view of the constantly emerging dishes from the kitchen. After feasting our eyes on these potential choices, we settled on a shared starter of Reblochon lollipops with bacon. We barely had time to put the milk bottle to our lips (every table comes with a gingerbread flavoured bottle of milk) when our giant cheesy lollipops arrived with a flourish and garnish of delectable cheesy juices. The Reblochon oozed out of it’s breadcrumb shell like glistening fatty lava, and was chased with the deliciously fresh house wine. The bacon is chunky, as you’d expect, and the combination just about sums up Alpine cuisine: cheese & bacon being stalwarts, usually found chaperoned by potato. After this indulgent starter, we moved on to pastures … ahem … even more heaven like. Wiz chose the special of the day – a filo pastry parcel of black pudding, foie gras and chestnuts with a juniper berry jus, and a token green salad side. I chose my all time favourite: chicken caesar salad. Thoughtfully, the anchovies came in a spoon on the side, along with additional dressing for the greedy. It was perfect. All around us the drama of lunchtime service unfolded with whole chickens stuck with sabatiers being delivered alongside the signature bolognaise in glass jars. This atmosphere is magic, the food is sensational, and just as you’re finishing lunch you’ll hear the distinctive bass notes of La Folie Douce start up. Go. Dance in your ski boots. On the table. With snow and slopes all around you in a kind of surreal daytime disco where everyone seems high on the freezing alpine air.